Los Angeles daily herald., 1887-01-09

middle of the term. sat beside him al
the table. listening meekly to his criti
cisms.
tal."
eyes, Mr.. Tudor"
"And here you speak of Impeachment,
as though it were procedure by bill"
Eyes, Mr.. Tudor"
THAT is somewhat grave mistake. y
l could not acquiesce again. And the
monosyllabi ''yes" was the only form Of
of answer that came to me.
"And here, think, you were required
to discuss the constitutional importance
of these events!"
"Yes. Mr.. Tudor"
"You have not done so, Miss Chrys.
tal."
"No-I am afraid-I am afraid not. "
You mistook the question, possibly?'
He was looking gravely at me, wait
ing: My spoken answer, like my writ.
ten answer, was not very much to the
point. spoke desperately.
"What is the good of 1t all?" said
"What does it matter about the judicial
system. and who has the control of taxa.
ton! What does it matter about the
Parliament and the courts and all the
dull old laws?' One can't really care
for the constitution"
l had time while he sat surveying me
10 feel ashamed OF my babyish, passion.
ate speech.
"What made you think of devoting
yourself to the STUDY of constitutional
bistory?" he said, with gentle surprise.
His gentleness seemed like satire. My
eyes, in spite of myself suddenly filed
with tears. Suddenly he looked away
from me. He asked me no more ques-
tions. For the next five minutes he
talked rapidly without pause. When
l resolutely blinked back my tears and
glanced at him, he was diligently dis
figuring my history paper with crooked
circles aud his face WIS less brown than
ruddy.
After that day his eyes ceased to
twinkle when he looked at me; he
passed me over in class, and put the
puzzling questions to Nell and Claudia,
and was almost gentle. when l went
alone to him. He gave up asking me to
expound this theory and that argument
which he had failed to follow; and, when
he was forced to condemn my work, he
worded his blame mildly and looked
away as he spoke.
"He has forgiven you Cis," said the
girls. "He completely ignores you now
for which you are thankful, Cis, are
you not:'
very thankful" said. l said it
impressively, for l needed to convince
myself as well as the girls.
was Inconsistent. for l began to
wish that he would find me amusing
again, and to feel the pangs of disar-
pointment In class when be passed me
over, and to desire with quite unreason-
able eagerness, that he should look at
me again, even if his eyes should have
laug ghter in their depths.
But every week the laughter SEEM ed
further away. And if he was grave in
class he was graver still on Saturdays.
He gazed steadily at my paper as he dis
eussed it, and discussed it as though in
dream. He no longer thought me
hippant, and conceited, and foolis h, and
tried to cure me. He no longer thought
of me at all.
1t was only at the end of the term that
he set aside his perfunctory tutor man
ner.
"Are you going home, Miss Chrystal?'
he asked me hesitatingly
''Yes. Not at once, though. For a
week or two l am going to stay with
Claudia-Miss Harrison, mean. Then
she will come home with me-"
81 may be spending my holidays near
you. Perhaps-possibly--we may meet
each other."
"Oh, yes; very possibly" I said.
And suddenly l felt light.hearted at the
thought of holidays. There was little
pause, aud rose and he'll out my hand.
ut is somewhere in Devonshire, is it
not?'' he said.
"What?"
"Your home."
"Yes. Axtown East. Quite little
place on tae coast. Have you friends
there. Mr.. Tudor"
NO." he said doubtfully, II believe
4 believe the Fl hing is good?" And it
did not strike me as strange that he
should be going to place in which he
had no friends, and OF which he did not
know the name and county.
But did not tell the girls what he
had told me. 1t was only at the end of
my visit to Claudia that / broke the
news to her. l broke it casually.
'He came for the fishing,' | said.
"And father aud the boys seem-acci.
dentally-to have come across him"
"Neyer mind, said Claudia
"No, it does not matter, said re.
siguedly.
But Claudia was sympathetic next
day when we arrived at Axtown East.
In short fortnight Mr.. Tudor had
made great strides toward friendship
with alkat home. He had found fav jr
with father and the boys: his hotel was
comfortless, and he deserted it frequent.
ly. He came and went at all hours,
laughed and smoked with the boys, and
talked sensibly like an old friend with
father. He was more bronzed than ever:
for fortnight he had been fishing and
rowing and walked with energy He
laughed as l had sometimes suspected
he could laugh; he had left his tutor
manners behind him with cap and gown.
Suddenly now, at the end of a fortnight,
he had grown tired of fishing and of
lonely boating and walking. He haunt
ed our house; he seemed to be always
where l was. Claudia was sympathetic;
and, somehow, felt traitorous when
received her sympathy.
1t was still. warm summer evening;
day or two after our arrival. We
were In the drawing room down stairs,
and the French windows were open
wide. Father was showing Mr.. Tudor
some views of places abroad where we
had been stationed at different times.
Suddenly, on the still air, came voice
from the garden. Claudia was com.
ing up the path with my brother
George.
"And that is the story" she said. sIt
doesn't seem quite modest thing to say
man bushes when you speak to him.
Poor Cis! she has never been happy in
his presence since. He will spoil her
holidays. We try to praise him some
times. hut as for Cis aha ,y;Il ,a,,o~ COS,